


Starved

by Finntrollhammaren



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Confessions, Groping, I Tried, Kissing, M/M, Seduction, Smut, So hard, and charles is around, chickles, going downklok, he is a good bidness man, he just wants to get some work done, heated makeout session, pickles doesnt want competition, pls, save charles, season 4, so why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-03-26 09:24:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19002961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finntrollhammaren/pseuds/Finntrollhammaren
Summary: Everyone else is going after Abigail and Pickles doesn't care much for her in that way.. or the competition. So, he decides to try and seduce their strictly professional, yet very attractive manager. Who doesn't like a challenge?





	Starved

**Author's Note:**

> For this fic Charles is a bottom thank u xoxoxoxox. I enjoy the dynamic of fancy bidness man being a bottom bitch to big dick energy pickle,,,, bye

After the revelation that they jacked it too much and were basically giving themselves advanced carpal tunnel, the entire band was told they were no longer allowed to pleasure themselves since they had an album to work on. They weren't of any use to anyone if they couldn't even play their instruments due to their wrists being sore beyond belief. This meant that they were faced with a problem. 

It honestly wasn't THAT bad the first few days. Sure, they all began to get a bit grumpy but that much was to be expected. They all started working out more than usual as a way to try lessen the urges. But it was almost a week in that, as if a switch went off, the band remembered there was Abigail-- who was a woman they could sleep with. Problem was, EVERY MEMBER wanted to sleep with her. Pickles wasn't one for competition. Besides, he tried to hit on her ONCE and got shut down almost immediately, so he was already put off by her. The rest of the band could try if they so desired. The drummer himself was not having any of it. If they all tried to go after one woman it would only lead to unnecessary fights and possible heart break. Not worth breaking up a band over one person. 

Besides, Pickles had a plan. There was still one other person on his submarine that he could try have his way with.

That person was Charles Offdensen. Guy looked like a bit of a prude, honestly. But that only meant (in his mind) that the manager would be easier to seduce. He doubted the man had any time to get laid, so SURELY he would jump at the first opportunity to get fucked, right?. 

If only it was that easy.

The redhead crackled his knuckles and began to aimlessly wander around the sub, since Charles wasn't always guaranteed to be in his office due to trying to wrangle 5 grown men and get them under control. He definitely didn't have it easy-- which was yet another reason why he should sleep with Pickles. He deserved it. To Pickles, he was a GIFT to anyone. Charles should feel grateful that he was even wanting to sleep with him. His sexual frustration was definitely the motivating factor, but if he was being honest with himself-- he always wanted to sleep with his Manager. At first he didn't realize that's what the tension he felt was, but it had always been there. From the moment they signed with crystal mountain records. That hot piece of ass was just.. always around. Pickles just never had the guts to try anything. 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

It wasn't long before the percussionist found himself standing in front of Charles' underwater office, not able to find him anywhere else on the submarine and finally being told by one of the klokateers where his boss was located. He cracked his knuckles and hesitated briefly before opening the door without even a knock, hearing Charles sigh under his breath and glance up to see who his uninvited visitor was. "Oh, hello Pickles." He muttered, voice as neutral and confident as ever. The guys always called him a robot because of it-- dude seemed to never even break a sweat. Always so calm and collected... but Pickles definitely planned on changing that. Wanted to see him get loose. Get wild. Out of control. All the fun stuff.

Pickles smiled back at him, slowly making his way over to the desk and leaning down to be at eye level with his Manager. "Heya, Chief. What'cha doinnn?" He drawled out, moving around to the back of the desk and peering over Charles' shoulder. He could already feel Charles tense up just a bit, almost unnoticeable if Pickles wasn't paying such close attention to him. It felt pretty good that he could illicit a reaction without properly doing anything to him yet. "Work. Like usual. Shouldn't you be uh... doing something?" But his voice kept that same evenness, not showing he was shaken at all. He also hadn't told Pickles to back off, so this was a good sign.

He scoffed a bit, moving his arms so they were on other one of Charles' shoulders, giving them the gentlest squeeze. "Nah. Alla tha' guise are tryna fack Abigail. I got nothin' to do." This caused the man below him to clear his throat awkwardly, silently wishing that crystal mountain records had sent a man instead. Not because he thought Abigail wasn't good enough-- but because he should have figured the boys would have no self control and try to piss her off. Maybe he would talk to them all about this when he had time. Abigail could probably handle herself. The boys wouldn't do anything she didn't want, at least. They weren't that awful. But they were persistent. Although, he did find it odd that Pickles wasn't trying to seduce her as well. Was he not as bothered by their plight? Not being able to jack off? Hm.

"I see. You're not joining that?" He was being a tad coy as he said this, looking over his shoulder to see that the drummer was very close to his face and gasping a bit before looking down at his work again. Charles wasn't part of the 'no jacking off' club, so he couldn't say he was as sexually frustrated as the rest of the band was. But there was still a difference in pleasure between touching yourself and having sex with someone. Something he hadn't experienced in... oh, years maybe. No time for it. Just a lot of work. He didn't see where he would even have the opening to head out and get laid. So, he had a few toys for it. They were all well hidden so that none of the boys would know about it. Just because they thought he was a robot didn't mean he didn't have needs. Sexual needs. Which he did. "Nah. Competition ain't my thing, Charlie. Besides, someone else I'd rather fool around wit'." He whispered, the hands on Charles' shoulders slowly inching down his chest. 

Charles grabbed his hands before they reached his belt buckle, having to take a moment to get his racing heartbeat under control. It appeared he was now the subject of Pickles' desires, mostly due to the fact he couldn't pleasure himself and apparently didn't want to compete with the other members. He should have considered bringing a few groupies down here with them, then he could get his work done in peace and the band would stop trying to blend personal and professional boundaries. It wasn't his fault they couldn't control how often they jacked off. "Pickles. I'm your Manager." Was the only real excuse he could come up with on the spot, since his body was already tingling as if he really did want this. Did he? A little bit, maybe. It was hard to reject the idea of being wanted-- but he had to. This was Pickles, after all. He would probably look back on this after and regret it completely and avoid Charles for the rest of his life. Not a life he wanted to live.

But that didn't appear to deter Pickles at all, who kept his hands where Charles stopped them but moved his head to just barely ghost his lips along the other man's neck. Not really a kiss, just a tease of one. "C'mon, Chief. I won' tell anyoneeee." He seemed to know what Charles' subconscious was saying, and there was an involuntary shudder as his breath made the hairs on the Manager's neck stand up straight. Telling anyone wasn't the problem here. It was against his moral code to sleep with someone he worked for. How would they continue their professional relationship after this? Would it not be weird? Disgusting, even? He was worrying too much to just.. let the moment happen. As much as he wanted to. "Irregardless, Pickles. You really need to stop--" He was about to explain how bad this would be before feeling a tender kiss to the side of his neck, and Charles basically turned into a puddle then and there. Oh my.

He had him. Hook, line, and sinker. That one kiss was all it took to turn Charles into a very willing participant. He watched with half lidded eyes as professional looking papers were organized into piles and haphazardly shoved into a drawer, and Pickles took it upon himself to pepper more kisses along that pale, unmarked flesh. "When's tha last time ya got facked, Charlie?" Pickles whispered, already being able to tell the guy was very much NOT heterosexual in any capacity-- so it was unlikely he was going out on the town and sleeping with loads of women. He just had a feel for these things. The guy was a total fuckin' square-- and incredibly gay. Just his type. The important question-- was he a top or bottom? Couldn't really get a gauge on it. But anyway, Pickles needed to get his dick wet so Charlie would just have to be okay with being submissive this time (well, if he consented. Obviously). "I... Well... I don't know." Charles forced out between gritted teeth, Pickles spinning the chair around so they were fully facing each other. "Sounds too long ta' me."

There was a brief moment of silence before Charles was out of his chair and pinned against the wall, wrists held together above his head as Pickles pressed their lips together. At some point Charles had to mumble 'Is the door locked?' before Pickles insisted that it was, and he finally let himself relax a bit. His worrying never stopped, okay? It was genetic.

Pickles used his free hand to undo Charles' jacket and button up shirt, allowing his wrists to be free for a moment to shrug them off and let them hit the ground. Then they were back above his head while his belt was then worked on, and Pickles made sure to keep his mouth occupied so he couldn't say anything bashful or stupid. As cute as it would be, the drummer was on a mission. Charles was his mission. "Yer pretty hawt, ya kno? Wanted to do this foreverr." He pulled away to whisper, starting to kiss along his jaw again while his hand fondled the bidness man through his pants. Not that many people would be surprised, but Pickles had slept with his fair share of men in the 80s. 90s too, actually. He mostly stopped when Dethklok took off but there were a few instances where he was able to do it without the guys finding out-- and each time since he met Charles, he would fantasize that the guys were him. Maybe he had a small obsession.

Charles had very quickly gone from a composed gentleman to whiny slut, bucking his hips desperately against the percussionists hand while he focused on the sensation of lips sucking on his neck. Hopefully the marks he ended up leaving weren't too dark-- he would need to be able to cover them with concealer or something (he started carrying very basic makeup on him after he obtained the scar from the assassin, as he didn't like the look of it and tried to hide it whenever possible). "Pickles. Come on. This... isn't fair." He mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt his cheeks turning a dark pink. This wasn't something he was proud of. Against the wall, on a submarine, whining and moaning while being groped by the drummer of the band he managed. What a sight.

"Ya gotta ask for iyt, Chief. Funner that way." Was all Pickles said in response, pulling his hand away from Charles' crotch to unbutton and unzip his own pants. Didn't make sense to stay fully dressed for this, after all. Charles furrowed his eyebrows and opened his eyes to look at him, his lip trembling with anticipation. He REALLY didn't want to beg but... what other choice did he have? He was beyond the point of calling this off and acting like it had never happened. This had to happen or he would probably lose his mind. Hopefully this was never used against him in the future. "Pickles...." Oh god, this was a lot harder than he thought. "I want you. So bad. I /need/ you. To...." He was going to crawl into a hole and die after this. "Fuck me." There. He did it. Good enough?

Pickles had to admit, he'd heard better begging from a dog wanting to go outside. But knowing how prideful Charles was, he would take that as a win. "Eh. Good enuff." He shrugged his shoulders casually and pulled his jeans off, assisting Charles with the same and then pausing again. Oh yeah, he definitely packed condoms and lube with him. The guy had been on a mission, of course. Wouldn't make any sense if he got this far just to forget the most important pieces. He crouched down to grab them from one of the pockets of his pants, glancing over at the desk and jerking his chin towards it. "Get yer underwear off n' get on tha desk." Yep, gonna defile him right on his desk and everything. How horrible was he?.

But Charles, as expected, complied-- peeling them off as fast as he could before situating himself as comfortably as he could on the wooden desk. Good thing he cleared it off in advance-- he would freak if his precious files became disorganized and crumpled due to their.. activities. He watched with shallow breath as Pickles did the same with his own, and placed the bottle down beside Charles while tossing the condom package down as well. "Yer gonna need prep or whatever." He muttered, and he watched the other man coat a few fingers before pressing their lips together again. Most likely in some vain attempt to distract him as he slowly worked a finger... inside of Charles.

This wasn't something he experienced very often-- if at all. So even the one finger was enough to make him gasp loudly against the drummer's lips, squeezing his eyes shut as he could feel it just.. going in and out while Pickles tried his best to get him to adjust to it. Charles draped his arms over the other man's shoulders and dug his nails into his back, only easing up when he felt a little more comfortable. "More." He found himself confident enough to say, and he heard Pickles grunt a bit in confirmation before using a second finger-- and promptly shoving his tongue down Charles' throat. The door may be locked, but this submarine wasn't as soundproof as Mordhaus and the quieter they both were, the better.

Charles really didn't know how to react to this. To any of it. All he was able to do right now was drag his nails down Pickles' back and moan against his mouth, all while he felt those two fingers scissor in a consistent pattern to get him ready for the real deal. That was the part that scared him. No matter how how 'preparation' you did, it was nearly impossible to stop it from feeling insanely uncomfortable for the first few minutes. Especially when this wasn't something you did very often. Pickles pulled away from the kiss and pressed their foreheads together, peering right into Charles' eyes and smiling a bit. "This... is gonna hurt. Ya look real cute, by the way." He whispered, and Charles couldn't even find the words to say-- so all he could do was nod feverishly. It was going to hurt, great. Just what he wanted to hear. The compliment sure helped, though.

"It'll... feel realll great after, though. So don't worry yer' pretty little face." He usually wouldn't spend so much time complimenting and reassuring whoever he was sleeping with-- but Charles was different. He was special, and Pickles wanted to make him feel as calm about this as possible. Grabbing the condom he fumbled around with it a bit before giving up and tossing it in the nearby trashcan, since it wasn't like Charles could get pregnant and he knew neither of them had anything. He grabbed the small bottle beside him and pulled his fingers out to properly coat his dick in lube, biting down on his bottom lip as he did so. Part of him was worried that he would do something wrong. That Charles wouldn't enjoy this at all and would spent the entire time just waiting until it was over. He never would care this much if it was someone else. Anyone else. He would just use them as a human fleshlight and be done with it.

Charles took a deep breath as he watched Pickles line himself up, but promptly looked away the moment he started to ease his way in. Lips were on him again but this time there was a lot of 'yer doin' great' and 'so fackin handsome' in between the little pecks. The deeper he got the more it became difficult to stay quiet, moving his head to bury his face in the crook of Pickles' neck while whimpering softly. It didn't hurt as bad as he was expecting it to-- but it was not a walk in the park. He started to swear repeatedly while trying his best to relax, and felt the drummer very gently start little thrusts and establish a pattern. The more he moved the better it started to feel, and slowly but surely those whimpers turned into moans. Huh, this wasn't bad at all. If anything, it was fucking amazing.

The desk started to shake a bit as Pickles started to go faster, with Charles back to moaning like a whore at the top of his lungs and they both gave up on trying to be quiet. What were the others going to do if they heard them? Come in and say something? No way. One hand that was currently tangled in Pickles' shirt moved between their bodies so he could jack himself off-- which was a bit ironic since Pickles was here due to not being able to do just that. "Pickles-- you.. fuck, uh-- you feel so.. so good." His voice was shaky as he tried to now focus on two sensations at once, taking off his glasses and placing them behind him since Pickles was now being so rough that they were bound to fall off anyway. Good thing his desk was strong, or they'd end up with an interesting problem on their hands.

Time felt like it was frozen, and Charles had no idea where he even was at this point. Well, physically he knew he was in his office in the submarine-- but mentally he was in an entirely different universe. All he could think about was Pickles. How good it felt to have him inside of him. How adorable his freckles were up close. His good his lips felt on his neck. Everything he could think of right now was about the man right in front of him. "Charlie-- oh, shit. Shit. Dood, I'm gonna.." His hips were already starting to sputter and throwing his pattern off. Oh, he was close. Wow. "Can I..." he started to ask before Charles nodded and cut him off. "Yeah, yeah." It would be worse to have him pull out, in his opinion. He didn't feel like spending the next hour scrubbing down his office more than he would already need to.

No more words were exchanged except for the occasional swear and mention of the others name, and Charles bit down on his bottom lip as he felt himself climax, grabbing Pickles' jaw and pressing a big one on his lips as he came right on his stomach. He would really need a shower after this. Badly. His lips moved to the drummer's ear, deciding to give him some encouragement. "Come on, Pickles. Cum for me." he whispered, and it was obvious he was already on his way there.

"Charlie... Shit, I love you." He mumbled before his hips came to an almost complete stop, releasing right inside of him and doing a few more almost pathetic thrusts before completely pulling out and slumping against Charles. His eyes then shot open when he realized exactly what he said, shaking his head and pulling away to pull on his underwear. "Oh, dood. I'm... sorry. I didn---" He adjusted his dreadlocks as he waited to get yelled at, but when he looked up all he could see was Charles looking at him with a big smirk on his lips. "I know." Wow, what an asshole.

Charles got up and almost fell over, remembering his legs felt like jello and his backside was honestly pretty sore. "Uh. For the record, I love you too. But next time, can we do this in a bed? My desk isn't very comfortable." He rolled his eyes, and Pickles let out a sigh of relief while doing up his pants again. He looked fairly put together-- surely no one would be able to tell what just happened. Maybe. "But I.. really need a shower. If you'll excuse me. I'll see you later." Back to being calm and composed. Something Pickles really admired about him. He still felt like a hot mess but here Charles was, covered (and filled with) cum but still talking like he was talking about the weather. What a man.

Pickles nodded and made his way out of the office, while Charles darted into the en-suite connected to his office to cleanse himself as quickly as possible.

He succeeded. He really fucked his Manager.. and subsequently confessed his love for him. But it was apparently returned. He also said 'next time', which implied he would get another chance at this. Wow. Maybe they could even.. date. The concept of it made his heart flutter.

Hopefully the other guys had as much luck. But he doubted it.

**Author's Note:**

> I almost never write smut so I'm so sorry that it's so awkward and rushed,, I'm still trying to get used to it. But I felt like this would be fun to do. I hope you all enjoyed anyway! <3


End file.
